


Midsummer Festivities

by frumpy_pumpkin



Category: Curse of Strahd - Fandom, Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game), Dungeons & Dragons - All Media Types
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-05
Updated: 2020-10-05
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:07:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26837947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frumpy_pumpkin/pseuds/frumpy_pumpkin
Summary: With the coming of midsummer and the announcement that Prince Sergei von Zarovich was to return from Barovia from his exile, celebrations had been planned. Sergei is welcomed with open arms from his brother and his cohort of elves in his employ. However, the good mood and sentiment appears fleeting as Sergei's youth and humour only seems to serve as a reminder that Strahd's best years were well behind him.  There is a tournament and a dance, but in the background, something sinister is brewing as Strahd brings the elven wizard, Patrina, in on his plans.
Relationships: strahd von zarovich/patrina velikovna
Kudos: 4





	Midsummer Festivities

**Author's Note:**

> This long piece is a recounting of a session of my DnD campaign. We played through Strahd's backstory as part of our campaign and in an effort to give us agency, we all played characters who became employed by Strahd as his bodyguards. The characters Biffy, Nicholas, Jiff, and Patrina are part of that cohort. I played as Patrina in our mini-arc as my dungeon master thought it would be interesting and in his words, "Patrina is minor in the book but sort of significant to his backstory. You can flesh her out as you go." In this piece, you get a fragment of what I was going for with her. She comes across better than she did later on in the mini-arc as she became much more ruthless and petty.

The room was opulent. Golden ribbons lined the hall, with massive banners for the Zarovich family hanging in the alcoves. Thick bushes of flowers stood in tall, marble pots along the walls, crowding the corners and forcing those who would rather hide out into the crowd. Bright sunlight poured into the hall from the large, ornate window that loomed above the throne. It was sheer glass, pieced together with lead cocking to create a large sun effigy. The thick, bright streaks ran the hall’s full length, illuminating the court who stood crowded together among the aisle.

The quiet hum of people talking fell silent as heavy steps resonated, and a tall figure appeared from a side door. Rahadin, a tan elf, dressed in studded armour, stood beside the throne and was followed quietly by four other elves who made up the party enlisted to serve as Strahd von Zarovich’s bodyguards. Rahadin’s dark eyes flicked to each member of the group. Jiff Saburov stood at the far end, dressed in heavy plate armour, with sigils to the Morninglord engraved into the breastplate, and a tunic in the Zarovich family’s colours. Jiff’s brother Biffy stood beside him, left of the throne. Biffy stood taller, in more flexible clothing but with a similar colour scheme. The uniform had amendments, as was expected and tolerated with the flamboyant elf. Right of the throne was Patrina Velikovna, a slender elven woman. Her white hair was pulled back into a loose braid, her uniform was devoid of armour, but fitted into a flared embroidered jacket, her sword hanging at her waist. Rahadin’s gaze narrowed at her. She ignored it with a flick of her eye out into the crowd. Beside Patrina stood Nicholas Scarpina, a half-elven man with dark hair. He was shorter than Patrina but carried himself well despite his poorly cared for uniform. His jacket hung open, revealing a pendant to Asmodeus hanging from his neck.

There was a beat before Rahadin turned back to the crowd and, with a commanding voice, announced,

“Lord Strahd von Zarovich!” He stepped to the side as Strahd emerged and, with minimal ceremony, found himself in his throne. The court was silent with anticipation, but there was little movement or hint of such from either Strahd or Rahadin. Patrina watched the pale faces of those who made up the court. Khazan had found himself in the corner of the hall. Gabriella Andral and Sargeant Vlasov stood together, whispering amongst themselves.

She could feel the eyes of some amongst the crowd judging the elven party that stood poised by the throne. The disgruntled faces were twisted into sneers and narrowed eyes. A tight frown graced her features as her ears flattened. She directed her attention to the grand doors that stood closed at the far end of the hall. 

A couple of moments of silent stillness passed before Rahadin nodded to a soldier who had emerged from behind a pillar. The soldier raised a hand to guards at the opposite end of the hall handling the doors. There was a look of recognition between the two guards before they quickly turned on their heel and pushed the doors open. The entire court turned, the sound of shuffling feet was deafening in the cramped space. Rahadin raised a hand, palm open,

“Welcoming Prince Sergei von Zarovich.”

There was a moment of awe as a young man emerged, dressed in armour and vestments in honour of the Morninglord. A sword of flaming light hung at his waist. The room was oppressively silent as he walked towards his brother’s throne. Strahd was now standing. A small smile had graced his face as he took in the form of his brother. He was young, with a youthful face lacking any signs of having seen battle nor being exposed to its brutalities. It would’ve been appropriate to have called it kind. His dark eyes held this warmness that felt lacking amongst those at court. Patrina and Biffy shared a look as Strahd stepped forward. Biffy winked at her with a mischievous grin, resting a hand on his rapier. 

“My dear brother,” Strahd began taking measured steps towards him, “It is a pleasure to welcome you back from your lengthy exile. I hope you find your new home here amongst the walls of Ravenloft amenable.” He extended a hand out in welcome. Sergei smiled and took it but then pulled his brother into a hug. A snort emanated from Biffy. Jiff smacked him in the abdomen. Biffy glared at his shorter brother, who matched his glare with equal power.

“I am more than glad to be home,” Sergei announced as he pulled away from the hug. Strahd stood frozen, a look of surprise gracing his face. Applause erupted amongst the court. Patrina watched the two brothers, her gaze meeting Strahd’s as he turned back to his throne. His face had fallen into a dark, stern frown. Compared to his much younger brother, she had to admit his age was showing on his features. A grey streak of hair was noticeable, as were the dark circles and lines that accentuated his eyes.

***

The celebration welcoming Sergei back to his home quickly transformed into the midsummer festivities. In the early afternoon, a tournament was held, the warm sun scorching Strahd’s elven party’s necks. Patrina had taken her coat off, finding the heavy black fabric unbearable. She stood beside Nicholas, who had done the same and had gone a step further, having unbuttoned his white shirt halfway to reveal his chest. He fanned himself with a hand. Biffy had done similar. Jiff was the only one who stood in full dress and had refused to remove anything despite his obvious discomfort out of a sense of duty. 

The tournament began with pomp and circumstance. The rules were simple, swords were to be used, and a winner was declared after five hits of one’s opponent. Jiff was the first to duel. He challenged the chef, a large man familiar with weaponry. It was a battle for honour, as he had previously slandered Jiff’s cooking, declaring it elven poison and peasant food. It was a quick fight that ended in a stalemate and a gesture of forgiveness on Jiff’s part. The chef would accept Jiff’s cooking with the caveat that no food was to be altered. It was amicable, and they parted to opposite sides of the grounds. 

Patrina and Biffy challenged each other next. Biffy pulled his coat on as he walked out onto the field, a cock-sure smile gracing his tanned face. He ran a hand through his white hair.

“You know spells aren’t allowed, dear.” He laughed, drawing his rapier. Patrina smirked. She stood opposite him in her shirtsleeves. She wore a white cotton shirt, high-collared with red floral embroidery along the seams, tucked into her high-waisted trousers, sleeves rolled up to her elbows.

“They won’t be necessary.” She began to hum as she drew her sword, translucent blue energy began to emanate from the blade and rise up her arm. Her blue eyes burned and began to glow a similar colour. Biffy was familiar with this ability of hers, and he laughed. She may be a wizard with a sword, but he knew it was not her most vital ability. This would be simple.

The duel was called to begin, and Biffy lunged at her, running full speed. She spread her feet apart, preparing for contact as his rapier swung from the side. She blocked it with her longsword, cocking an eyebrow. He narrowed his eyes as she swung at him. He dodged easily and lashed at her again, hitting her hip - point for Biffy. She lunged at him with her sword, the blue energy streaking through the air as Biffy dodged again with a high laugh. Her sword hit the ground as she missed, he took advantage of the opportunity slicing her forearm with the tip of his blade. She glared at him as he ran - point for Biffy.

“I’m sorry, dear; it’s only fair!” He twirled his rapier with a flourish. Patrina straightened, adjusting her grip on her weapon. Blood trickled down her forearm, pooling at her fingertips before dripping onto the disturbed, loose dirt beneath their feet. She pushed the hair out of her face, flicked her braid back behind her shoulder as she ran at Biffy, stepping into his space, parrying his rapier and flicking his shield out of his grip, as she turned on her heel only to hit him in the back. He gasped and pouted briefly, flexing the hand that once held a shield that was thrown out of the ring - point for Patrina.

The next few points went over with little excitement. Patrina had managed to land two hits on Biffy and Biffy, an additional one on her so that they stood across from each other - even. 

“You’ve been practicing,” Biffy sighed, wiping the sweat off his brow and adjusting his collar.

“Not any more than necessary,” She retorted, twirling her blade in her hand. She stole a glance at the stage. Strahd and Sergei sat under a canopy. Strahd had a distant gaze about him, but Sergei seemed invested, grinning at the two elven fighters as they lunged at each other. Biffy followed her gaze, eyes flicking back at her before running full tilt towards her. She started, lifting her sword to deflect his blow, but he was too quick, bringing the flat edge of his blade to slide across her abdomen as he stepped past her. She fell to the ground as she lost balance - point for Biffy.

The crowd applauded as Biffy was announced the winner, although he paid little attention to the formal announcement. He grabbed Patrina by the hand, helping her up and then kissing her palm before pulling her close. She gave him a weird look as he leaned towards her ear, his earrings dangling as he jerked forward.

“Sergei is quite handsome, don’t you think?” He chuckled as she rolled her eyes,

“You like the young one?” She whispered back, trailing her gaze away from his piercing golden eyes to the stage again. Strahd had taken to standing and was looking down at his brother, gesturing vaguely.

“Of course. Don’t you?” He let go of her with a wink and made his way back towards Nicholas and Jiff, sheathing his weapon and throwing his coat off, revealing his own embroidered shirt underneath. She followed behind, taking a kerchief from her back pocket, wiping the blood that was still dripping down her arm.

Rahadin announced the next opponents, and as he said their names, there was a soft gasp amongst the crowd. Strahd and Sergei took to the field, both of them drawing their respective weapons - Strahd’s longsword, Sergei’s burning one. The duel was intense and close. There was a sense of ferocity from Strahd, while Sergei managed to parry and dodge with ease. It was apparent that Strahd, although himself an imposing warrior, lacked his younger sibling’s stamina. Sergei got a couple of good hits initially, but Strahd followed suit, matching him quickly.

Nicholas cupped his hands around his mouth as he shouted, “Go Strahd!” There was no acknowledgement from the duelists or Nicholas’s comrades. Sergei got an additional two hits on Strahd, laughing with a youthful sense of joy. It was a laugh of someone who saw this as a game, a fun bonding experience between siblings. Strahd’s face remained stoic as he landed a third blow against Sergei. There was a pause with the hit before Sergei managed to sneak a final blow in between the gap of Strahd’s arms. As Sergei was announced the winner, he smiled at his brother, grabbing his hand and holding it up. Strahd was visibly winded and sweating. Sergei, although he had clear signs of exertion, he was doing better.

***

They had the afternoon following the tournament off to prepare for the midsummer dance. Biffy was responsible for arranging the decorations and Jiff the food. Nicholas had been temporarily enlisted by Biffy to help out. He was unlucky enough to have gotten caught as he tried to sneak away from the commotion and into town. There was talk about his sweetheart, Zinra, and whether she would be coming to the party tonight. Nicholas had shut down all ideas Biffy had suggested, but that didn’t mean much in the grand scheme of things. Biffy had servants under his employ and a watchful and deceptive eye. Nicholas didn’t stand a chance. 

Patrina was luckier than Nicholas was. She had managed to sneak away from the grand halls’ commotion and the courtly celebrations that lingered on a smaller scale throughout the afternoon. She crept through the halls, her heels clicking on the hard stone, as she made her way to the library. She planned to grab a book from the library for the party, something to hold onto and skim through if the mood struck her, and then head to her quarters to get properly cleaned up and changed before tonight’s festivities. She had washed the sweat off her face and wrapped a cloth around the wound on her arm, but she preferred not to wear her uniform to a ball. They were rare enough. She wanted to be at least dressed appropriately.

She turned into the library, walking in with an even gait. She froze when she saw Strahd sitting at the table in the center of the room, a couple of books piled before him. He didn’t raise his gaze from his reading, whether because he was ignoring her or he didn’t notice, she wasn’t sure. She decided to respond similarly, making her way over to a bookshelf and grabbing a book at random. She skimmed the title, frowning, before turning to face Strahd.

“What are you reading?” Her voice broke the heavy silence of the library. It was isolated from the rest of the festivities, so no sound penetrated its thick walls. His head rose as he looked up at her, studying her posture and gaze with a stern expression. He took in the kerchief tied tightly around her forearm, the red stain peaking through the white fabric. Her clothing was dishevelled, her back dusty from her fall. His expression softened as he continued to take her in. He cleared his throat,

“I’ve been looking at whether it is possible to regain youth.” He leaned back in his chair, watching her expression closely. She revealed little, but a thin smile graced her lips,

“Looking into immortality?”

Strahd grinned widely. Patrina stepped towards the table and placed her book on top. Her hands rested gently on its cover.

“Do you know much about it?” Strahd inquired, his grin turning dark. She shrugged with a coy smile.

“It requires powerful magics, beyond what you can learn traditionally. From what I’ve read, it requires a patron or gift of some sort.”

“What do you know about that?” He raised an eyebrow, folding his arms across his chest. There was a glint of something in his eye, and she hesitated, afraid to disappoint.

“Nicholas might be a better person to ask…” She started and then gestured to the far end of the library, “There are several books that cover it at the far end.”

Strahd was standing before she could finish. He pulled a seat over. “Sit.” She nodded wordlessly and sat as he strode to the far end of the library. She flipped through her book for the couple minutes he was gone until he pushed it away from her and placed a pile of books before her. He leaned on the table, looming over her menacingly with a dark smile. “Read all you can.” A deep guttural chuckle emanated from him, “It’s an order.”

Her eyes widened slightly, but as her eyes skimmed the spines of the books laid before her, a deep sense of satisfaction flooded through her body. She opened her mouth to respond, but before she could, Rahadin walked in with a carafe of red wine and a crystal glass, glaring down at Patrina before placing the carafe on the table and the glass before Strahd.

“Would you kindly bring a second glass, Rahadin? Patrina will be helping me for the afternoon.” There was a tone in Strahd’s voice, which suggested he did not want to be opposed, and Rahadin recognized that. He sneered, looking down at Patrina with a look of mild disgust, 

“Of course, sir.” Rahadin bowed before turning on his heel and walking out. The sound of his heavy footsteps resonated down the hall, growing quieter until they were all but inaudible. Strahd sat back down at the table and pushed a book towards her.

“Read. I imagine you’re a fast one.”

She nodded, “I know how to find information in any case.”

“Good.” He poured a glass of wine and watched as she opened the book, pushing a loose hair behind her ear before leaning back in her chair. Her eyes flicked rhythmically as she skimmed the words, turning the pages with a flick of her wrist. Strahd watched her, her blue eyes went over the pages quickly, her mouth pressed into a slight frown as she read. There was something attractive about her, whether it was her flat nose, her white hair that curled naturally at the ends, or her intellect he couldn’t quite place it. She had managed to impress him on multiple occasions, both through her ruthlessness and through her cunning, but he regretted not having spent more than fleeting moments with her. He took a sip of his wine and grabbed a book of his own. Her knowledge will be useful in any case.

***

The ballroom was done up in beautiful golds, ambers, and silvers. More plants had been brought in, suffocating the room with their perfume and full bushes. Papers lanterns hung strung across bannisters, and all the windows were thrust open to allow the warm evening air to blow through the room. The hall’s lighting was dim, but warm and colourful in spots, reflecting the flowering bushes both within the castle walls and beyond into the valley of Barovia. Warm reds, pinks, yellows, and blues spread across the walls of the hall, casting an intimate light amongst the guests. Glass paned doors that lead out into a garden were thrust open, allowing the party to spread out beyond the ballroom.

Everyone was dressed beautifully and elaborately, for the most part, in any case. Jiff and Nicholas wore more straightforward attire than much of the aristocratic court, opting for loose shirts and styled with jewelry because Biffy would not accept otherwise. Biffy himself was always an icon of fashion, dressed in an embroidered cape that latched at the throat with an elaborate, coiled fastener. His high boots gave him an impressive height over many of the guests, especially over Jiff, Nicholas, and Patrina. Patrina wore a white lace and linen dress, with black tights and similar high boots to Biffy. He had cornered her, similarly to Jiff and Nicholas, distraught at her hair. She didn’t have much time to do anything other than undo the braid and brush it out. The waves in her hair were accentuated from being roped together for the day, but she looked dull in the words of Biffy. He had managed to commandeer some flowers, she didn’t know from where, and tucked them into her hair. She had him matched on jewelry, with several rings lining her fingers, her typical multiple earrings, and a pendant hanging on a long chain from her neck. Biffy had little argument beyond that. What they lacked in status among the court, Biffy ensured they made it up in style.

Patrina stood off to the side of the ballroom. She watched Jiff hover around the food table, watching the reactions of guests and ensuring no one could ruin his food, let alone the chefs. Biffy was harassing Nicholas about something. She kept an eye on them from a distance. Whether Biffy had managed to kidnap Nicholas’s sweetheart, it was beyond her, but she was enjoying their little spat. Biffy, with a flourish, ran out of the ballroom into the garden. Nicholas looked at Patrina and then Jiff pleadingly, although neither made an effort to save him. They knew it was useless anyway.

While Biffy was gone, Patrina realized Strahd was making rounds to all the guests, guided by Rahadin, who stood by with a respectful but forced smile gracing his features. Her afternoon with Strahd was mostly uneventful but felt productive. Her eyes burned from all the reading, but what she had learned was insightful. He seemed to appreciate her help. They had parted a couple of hours earlier with little said between the two. She forgot her book in the library, which frustrated her, but nothing stopped her from slipping out when the night began to die.

A cry caught her attention as Nicholas stood frozen, his hands rooted in his hair. A dusk elf woman, short and dressed in a beautiful yellow, satin dress, was guided by Biffy, who was grinning ear to ear. Patrina covered her mouth with a hand, hiding a cruel smile. Nicholas looked horrified. He stood there beet red, looking upon this dark-haired woman who Biffy had invited on his behalf. This must be Zinra, Patrina thought. She began to laugh quietly as Biffy grabbed Nicholas’s hand and handed it to Zinra, who looked equally embarrassed. 

“Ah, Patrina.” A familiar voice broke her concentration, and she turned to face Strahd and Rahadin. She smiled at him. “How are you enjoying the evening?” He asked.

“It’s good.” She gestured to Biffy and Nicholas, Biffy’s familiar laugh was resonating through the room, “They’re keeping me entertained.”

Strahd smiled, “Good. There was something I wanted to talk to you about.” He continued. Patrina caught Rahadin’s disapproving glare, and he stepped in,

“Sir, there are other guests who are of more importance.”

Strahd didn’t take his gaze away from Patrina but dismissively raised his hand, “Rahadin, why don’t you grab some food.” 

“Yes, of course, sir.” He bowed with a clenched jaw, his nose scrunched in such a level of displeasure that Patrina could not prevent the feeling of discomfort that rose up her spine. Strahd waited a moment until Rahadin was gone before continuing,

“Your help was appreciated this afternoon. Your knowledge of the arcane is impressive.” Music began to play as people moved to the dance floor with partners. She caught Biffy in the corner of her eye, pushing Nicholas and Zinra out onto the floor. “I want you to help me in my further research.”

She met his gaze and couldn’t help a faint blush gracing her cheeks. His expression remained entirely serious. What humour there had been in the late afternoon had wholly disappeared. He stood rigid, towering over her. His hand rested on his sword, not in a threatening but a poised way. She began to fidget with the large ring on her right hand that served as her arcane focus. 

“I would be more than happy to.”

“This shouldn’t have to be said, but keep this between us. Understood?”

“Understood.” She couldn’t stop a faint smile from spread across her lips. She felt like she was getting somewhere beyond her sole position as a glorified servant. It was a step towards proper power, a step towards something more significant than what she was. It was thrilling and attractive. She had to admit, as well, that working within the confidence of the lord of Barovia did make him seem much more handsome. Not that he wasn’t already, but age had begun to soften his more prominent features, and she knew that she looked years younger than him despite being a hundred years his senior. She liked his eyes. There was something about them where she felt intimidated but simultaneously comforted by them. They carried a power she had not seen before.

The music died down as a dance ended, and sheet music was turned for the next dance. A slow waltz began to be played. Strahd looked out amongst the crowd of pairs dancing, their bodies dancing under the rainbow of colour that reflected from the lanterns. He turned back to Patrina, who was also watching with a severe and bored expression that seemed so familiar on her face.

“Would you care to dance?”

She started, a deep blush gracing her cheeks. To say the question was unexpected was an understatement. She continued to watch the dancers as they turned and twisted under the soft light.

“I’m out of practice. I haven’t done this in a long time.”

“I have lots of experience.” He grabbed her hand, pulling her initially and then leading her to the dance floor. He stood rigid, with a straight back, holding her right hand in his, his other hand placed softly on the small of her back. She placed her hand on his arm and let him lead. She was terribly out of practice and tried hard to match his steps as well as she could. His face betrayed no emotion, remaining stoic and staring beyond her, as though deep in a trance. She felt very small within his grasp, an impressive feat since she was neither a short woman nor petite. However, he towered over her, and she could tell he was much stronger as he was able to guide her effortlessly, although she offered little resistance. 

The music slowed as the dance came to a close. Strahd grabbed her hand and kissed it, she nodded, watching his stoic expression closely. The crowd began to disperse but froze when a sound of a glass clinking resonated through the hall. A swift silence fell over the attendees as Sergei mounted the stairs, holding a glass of wine, smiling broadly. Patrina turned to face the prince, standing beside Strahd, arms folded across her chest.

“Cheers, to my dear brother! For all the work he has done and for welcoming me home in such a spectacular and heartwarming way.” He raised a glass, winking out into the crowd at his brother. There was an eruption of ‘here-here’ from those around, paired with clinking glasses and soft clapping. Strahd’s expression did not change; instead, his focus seemed to bore towards Sergei, who was back down off the step and mingling with the crowd. Strahd turned away from Patrina without a word, striding off the dance floor with little reservations. Patrina watched him for a moment before doing similarly, making her way to Biffy with not so much as a glance back.


End file.
